


A New Picture

by FangirlReader221



Category: Jurassic Park - All Media Types, Jurassic Park Original Trilogy (Movies), Jurassic Park Series - Michael Crichton
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Drawing, Gen, Headcanon, I Don't Even Know, I already posted this as a part of my one shot series but wanted to post it seperatly, Introvert, One Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, reupload
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 16:02:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19276672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangirlReader221/pseuds/FangirlReader221
Summary: (I do not own characters or events in this one-shot)Alan Grant loves drawing. He always has ever since he was a kid. His whole life he had always put what he felt on the inside onto paper. He drew whatever was on his mind whenever it felt needed. This was one of the hobbies he would never lose despite whatever was going on outside his introvert bubble. Alan's whole life could probably be looked at through pictures. Not all of them would be pretty.(Pretty much this is just Alan's life told as an artistic introvert. Also, I have already posted this but it was in my one Jurassic June HCs fanfic so I wanted to post this one separately because I really liked it!)





	A New Picture

It had started with a box of crayons given to the toddler. Coloring books soon followed; pictures of animals and dinosaurs made of nothing but outlines. Alan spent most of his time while he was little, bringing those pictures to life. “Mommy,” He held up a coloring book full of dinosaurs in his chubby fist, holding it out. “what are these animals again?”

“Those are dinosaurs, Alan.” She explained, squatting next to her 5-year-old. “They aren’t around anymore.”

“Good.” Alan resumed coloring, splashing inks of red onto the triceratops. He loved those; the pages of them were the ones he colored first and after he would have his mom tape them to the bedroom wall. The colorful dinosaurs hung on his headboard and around the room. Alan would chatter about how they were his favorite while his mother tucked him in.

“How is that good, honey?” Without a second’s hesitation, her son responded plainly.

“Some of them are scary.”

Drawing had been Alan Grant’s thing since he’d been little. He wasn’t bad at it either. Despite the praise from his family and friends, he didn’t think much of it. Alan didn’t have many friends growing up but he didn’t mind. Talking to people was intimidating and exhausting. Drawing was his outlet.

In elementary school, he would sit on the swings, or on the curb by the grass, or underneath the play structure at recess by himself. He never felt lonely though. Alan was perfectly content with nothing but a pencil and a notebook. By high school, he had chosen art for one of his electives, even though his parents didn’t approve. In all of his educational career, he would sit alone at lunch with his sketchbook of the day. Filled notebooks were tucked away underneath his bed where no one else could mess with them.

He had a few friends. He sometimes drew what they asked him to because he cared. They praised his detailed images- even though he preferred they wouldn’t. Alan always met them from when they would be the ones to approach him, shy in the corner. He never was the first to talk. “Whatcha writing?”

“I’m not writing, it’s a picture.” He shut his notebook and pressed it to his chest. The pencil marked the page.

“Can I see?”

“Nope.”

Sometimes he drew other people or objects but he usually sketched out living creatures. Animals, fish, dinosaurs, and monsters from mythology. Satyrs and Stegosauruses and lions made of lead and sprinkled with eraser shavings. Grant didn’t ever use color in his illustrations. He thought that it took away from the photograph he already saw as sufficient; If it ain't broke, don’t fix it.

During lectures at college, working to earn his degree in paleontology, he doodled on his notes. In the margins of the college ruled sheets were pencil markings shaped into fossils, gastroliths, birds, and anything that came to mind. Grant did this on the backs of his tests too. If he finished his final exam sheet before everyone else did, and they weren’t being handed in yet, he would sketch out whatever dinosaur he was thinking of. There were a lot of triceratopses.

On the various dig sites he'd worked at, Alan sketched out the finds of the day. After everyone else had retired for the day, he would sit by the newest skeleton with a notebook in his lap. He'd prefer if less people noticed when he drew so sometimes he'd sneak off to do it alone. Sometimes miles away, Alan would retreat to where it was quiet to sketch out sunsets and prairie grasses and clouds. During this time where he gained more and more respect from other paleontologists, his notebooks differed, portraying images that conveyed desolation and peace. Alan remembered these younger years as a very peaceful and enjoyable time in his life.

Dr. Ellie Sattler was one of the first people he had drawn. After she joined the dig site, Dr. Grant had been doing paperwork in his office once and with the sun shining in her hair, Ellie looked so radiant. Peering through the window of the trailer, he found himself flipping over the scratch paper he had been using to count funds, and drew her. On the page he gave her the wide smile she never let fade, wisps of blonde locks flowing in the breeze, and her thin yet strong frame, but he didn’t think her eyes looked right. Ellie Sattler had a shine in her smile and sparkle in her eyes he couldn’t replicate no matter how hard he tried.

That first drawing of her he ended up shoving into his pocket. From then on and through their relationship, Alan sketched her a lot. He showed them to her on occasion. The depictions were never demeaning or made out of a place of desire but out of affection. He always had drawn what he loved and falling in love with Dr. Sattler meant she had made more and more frequent appearances in Alan’s notebooks.

Having grown in fame in his field, Dr. Grant published a book. It was about dinosaurs and paleontology of course. The book wasn’t large but was fully illustrated. He had done the black and white pictures himself. One of his friends, Micheal Backes, was trusted to help him with the book and the foreword was written by Sir Richard Attenborough. But it was his book nonetheless. “Dinosaur Detectives, written and illustrated by Dr. Alan Grant.”

After Jurassic Park, his pictures weren’t as lighthearted. Upon waking from nightmares, Alan sometimes scared himself with the images that would show up in his papers. He drew velociraptors with bloodstained teeth, chunks of flesh stringing down in an attempt to put a visual on their rotten breath. He drew the Rex, in all her glory, splashing through the mud. Like with Ellie, her eyes never looked right either. A couple times Alan would draw exactly what he dreamed of. It was the visual reality of his nightmares and it was terrible. There was no way he would ever let anyone see those. Alan threw out his own artwork for the first time and it soon became a habit.

Dr. Grant also drew more of people after the park and he would always do so at night. When he should’ve been dozing he stayed up, scribbling out the horrors. He drew Lex and Tim, their faces streaked with mud. He drew Malcolm, bloody and dying. His depictions of Hammond showed him as more of an executioner than a loving grandfather. He refused to create images Ellie anymore because he didn’t want to see her broken.

She left him though. Alan’s beloved Dr. Sattler was gone from his life. That was when he began drawing her again. He did it viciously as though he needed to make as many photographs of her as possible before he forgot what she looked like. He would never forget.

After they split, he stopped throwing out his violent drawings. Instead, he tucked them all in a locked box, even the goriest ones, only for his eyes. Having lost her, Dr. Grant’s images of Ellie were bluer than they used to be. He drew her weeping and with torn clothing and sweat on her brow; he drew her as she looked in the park.

The San Diego incident happened. Alan watched the ordeal on TV. Drawings of leveled cities, mutilated crowds, and even Malcolm in various stages of death joined the box and were locked away for eternity.

Upon meeting Billy, Alan began to sketch his protégé too. If Billy caught him doing so, he’d always strike a pose, just to mess with him. From time to time Alan would allow Billy's pictures to be in dramatic positions. It took him Isla Sorna to stop drawing people entirely. After completing a couple of depictions featuring an injured Billy, he refused to do humans. Drawing dinosaurs wasn't much better though because it was usually Raptors. Always Raptors. Raptors and their eggs.

By 2018 and the outbreak, he didn’t care anymore. With the dinosaur outbreak, he had bigger fish to fry. Dr. Grant created whatever he was thinking about. He constructed visuals of the dinosaurs around the Statue of Liberty, Eiffel Tower, pyramids of Egypt and the White House. Following night terrors, sketches of the kids, Ian, Billy, and Ellie being chased were brought into existence. Those joined the box of his worst depictions. The box was unlocked more and more frequently. Alan watched it get fuller and fuller. Until finally, it overflowed.

**Author's Note:**

> I already posted this so it's essentially a re-upload.  
> In the Jurassic Park books it mentions how Alan liked to draw and stuff and there was a line in the movie: "but your was fully illustrated", that made me want to write this. It's just a headcanon written as a one shot.  
> Hope you enjoyed and have a nice day!


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